


To Speak the Unspoken

by siliconmage



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, byleth is an adult and you will address him as such, i wrote this to protest the conditions my people are living under, why intelligent systems gotta play my boy like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 15:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20027746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siliconmage/pseuds/siliconmage
Summary: No Spoilers. A discussion under the stars between two strangers about what could and could not have been.





	To Speak the Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Byleth and I needed to work through some thoughts.
> 
> **Edit from the Future:** Let it be known that I knew absolutely nothing about Dorothea when I wrote this fic. Apparently this is what I think people who wear hats are like.

The sun was setting as he walked back across the gardens towards the dormitory. He was fighting tiredness, knowing it wouldn't do for any of the students to see their teacher in any way other than absolute alertness, when off to the side he heard a nervous shuffle in the gardens off the path. Perking up, he trailed it around a corner, catching furtive movement.  
There, caught in the remaining afternoon light, was the hat girl. What was her name? Dorothea. She stared up at him guiltily with a sheepish smile, hiding one bottle behind her back but failing to hide the empty ones. Several other footsteps darted away, but she was caught.  
"I can, uh, explain, Professor."  
"Seems pretty explained to me," he said pointedly.  
There was embarrassed silence for a moment, and then she said, "Please don't get me in trouble. I know students aren't supposed to have alcohol, but after the last battle, we just..."  
He stared at her for a second, and then up at the setting sun, examining it critically. Around them, the noise of nighttime started to creep over through crickets and the lonely sigh of wind.  
"Give me the bottle," he said responsibly, and after a moment she reluctantly handed it over.  


\----

"Wow," she said an hour later, "you really are our age."  
"Hat girl, please. I don't need to be old to drink you under the table. I grew up with mer...cenaries."  
The sun had gone down, and they sat next to each other under the stars, their corner of the gardens deserted and far from the common path.  
"Can I ask you a question?" she said after a moment.  
He took a long, savoring pull from the bottle, swallowed pensively, and then said succinctly, "Sure."  
"Do you not like girls?"  
Avoiding her gaze to stare up at the night sky, he said frankly, "I like girls. I like plenty of girls. There are several girls whom I am very fond of. Marianne for instance. Trying to get her to transfer, put in a good word for me if you see her."  
"You know that's not what I mean."  
"Do I?" he said evasively.  
She turned to look at him, held out her hand, and he obligingly handed the bottle back again. Instead of drinking from it, she said, "Would you marry Marianne?"  
With nothing to do with his hands, he just stared at them avoidingly, opening and closing the fingers as he pondered this.  
Finally, he admitted, "No."  
"How about Dimitri?"  
At that, he was silent, silent for long enough that she took a pull on the bottle and handed it back. After it had gone back and forth enough times to be empty, and halfway through the next bottle she pulled out of nowhere, he finally spoke, his tongue loose and not at all appropriate for a teacher.  
"Hat girl," he lamented, "I want to marry Dimitri."  
"I know buddy," she said understandingly. "I know. Do you think you'll ever tell him?"  
Automatically, he said, "That is hells of inappropriate for a student teacher relationship."  
She was silent, and so was he, knowing that wasn't the real answer.  
He sighed, thought about the wide, sad eyes of his house leader, the sorrow that lurked in them, the secrets he hid, and the strength he hid them with. Thought about the fierce, growling loyalty he felt for the young man who seemed less like a student and more like a partner to him. How he wanted to tell him that he was slowly realizing he would die for him, if this all blew up in their faces like he was starting to suspect it would. Wanted to tell him that no matter what, he would always, always be on his side. Wanted to touch his hair. Wanted to kiss him. Wanted.  
"Hat girl," he said finally, "... people like Dimitri do not fall in love with people like me."  
In the starlight, the crickets led them slowly towards the dawn.  
They didn't say anything else after that. 


End file.
